


Someone You Loved

by BunnyJimmyBearBoi



Series: Witcher Songfics [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Despair, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt, Heartache, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Music, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion is a Mess, M/M, Melancholy, Non-Graphic Violence, Reference to graphic violence, Song fic, Songfic, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJimmyBearBoi/pseuds/BunnyJimmyBearBoi
Summary: After the Mountain, Jaskier is spiraling into despair and ruin. How can he go on when the love of his life has torn his heart asunder and left him with the jagged pieces?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher Songfics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759807
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Someone You Loved

**Author's Note:**

> [ Someone You Loved ](https://youtu.be/zABLecsR5UE) is by Lewis Capaldi. I do not own the lyrics. I just used them as inspiration and guidance for this little story. Lyrics are shown in italics.
> 
> The two bold lines are dialogue from the Netflix Witcher show.
> 
> I’m sorry for this, but life has been rough and I’m not in a great place right now. I needed to get some of these dark emotions out. I kept hearing this song on the radio and always thought of Jaskier after the mountain scene, falling into despair at having his heart crushed. I just had to get this out of my head and heart, even though there are several other (much happier) fics I should be writing on. I just can’t find those words at the moment. So here we are.
> 
> But I do hope to write a follow-up to this sometime that mends the heartache and brings the two together. We’ll see if it happens. I do have an idea floating in my head. Just know that I never want to leave our lovely bard suffering like this for too long.

_I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me_  
_This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy_  
_I need somebody to heal_  
_Somebody to know_  
_Somebody to have_  
_Somebody to hold_  
_It's easy to say_  
_But it's never the same_  
_I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain_

The run-down tavern was packed with villagers enjoying an evening of drink and music. People danced. People cheered. Everyone was merry, except Jaskier. He was alone in the crowd, sitting at a table in the corner. His head buzzed from the ale he was drinking like water, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the anguish in his heart. Pain squeezed his chest like a noose around his neck.

“Can I fill you another?” The lovely barmaid stopped next to him, a bright smile on her face, a twinkle in her eye that was a promise of more should he want it.

He attempted to smile back, but was pretty sure it came across a grimace since her smile faltered. He just shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled towards the stairs. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his back. Felt it bore through him as if she knew how utterly miserable he was.

And maybe she did, maybe they all did. But he couldn’t bring himself to care what others thought of him. There was only one person’s opinion that mattered and, well, he had obviously not cared as much as Jaskier had thought. All those years by the man’s side had meant nothing.

And yet they had meant everything to Jaskier.

_Now the day bleeds_  
_Into nightfall_  
_And you're not here_  
_To get me through it all_  
_I let my guard down_  
_And then you pulled the rug_  
_I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved_

Staring out the window at the night sky, Jaskier took another long drag from the bottle of truly terrible wine. Leaning back against the headboard, he focused on the burning liquid running down his throat as he swallowed. That pain was better than the agony inside of him.

That voice haunted him. Those words echoed loudly in his head, no matter what he did to quiet them.

**Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you, shoveling?**

Jaskier clutched his head and a sob wracked him. He couldn’t keep it in anymore.

**If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.**

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and the bottle slipped from his hands. It clunked heavily on the floor and rolled away, spilling what little remained inside. He should care, but he found he couldn’t. There was nothing left of his heart. He curled up into a ball and cried his soul out.

It’s not like he had much of that left either. Most of it had already been ripped out by sword-calloused hands.

_I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to_  
_This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you_  
_Now, I need somebody to know_  
_Somebody to heal_  
_Somebody to have_  
_Just to know how it feels_  
_It's easy to say but it's never the same_  
_I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape_

“Out, you! I ain’t a charity, lazy bugger!” The inn-keeper shouted as he pushed Jaskier out into the street. “If ya don’t play and you ain’t got coin, you cannae stay here!”

Stumbling forward, the bard couldn’t find his balance and collapsed into a dirty puddle on the cobblestones. He heard the door slam behind him, but he just lay there, willing his spinning head to stop.

The street was quiet, no onlookers to gawk at him, but then the sun hadn’t even risen. He clutched his lute bag and satchel to him. They were as dirty as he was, but again, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was nothing, nobody. The world had taken a bright shining star and stepped on it with its sharp heel and then dragged him through the muck. The only thing left was to end him.

Which would end his misery.

A small blessing…

The heavy tromp of boots approached and stopped nearby. He raised his head and sighed seeing the town’s guard standing there, looking angrily down at him.

“Either you leave town on your own two feet or I throw you out. We don’t tolerate beggars here.” The man’s gruff voice was close to the one that haunted his heart, which make Jaskier wince as he shakily rose to his feet.

He took one step. Then another. And another. One foot in front of the other. He could do this.

As he walked down the main thoroughfare towards to end of town, he could feel the guard’s heavy stare, a judgement felt passed upon him. But it wasn’t a new one. Just another affirmation that he was garbage.

Nothing worth having around. Just shit.

But then he was good at shoveling that.

_Now the day bleeds_  
_Into nightfall_  
_And you're not here_  
_To get me through it all_  
_I let my guard down_  
_And then you pulled the rug_  
_I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved_

It was a cold night, but then Jaskier had always been sensitive to temperatures. If he had been at an inn, he would have stoked the fire more, and then wrapped a heavy blanket around himself. But he was outside, in a small clearing in a forest. His poor attempt at a fire was sputtering, looking more like it was about to go out than to blaze to life.

Much like his heart.

Suddenly the forest went quiet. He knew what that meant. He wasn’t alone, but he couldn’t care. Let them rob him. He had little of value. Little left that he valued, anyway. Maybe it would bring them more happiness than it had him.

A few moments later, he was surrounded, a man at his back with a knife pressed to his throat. “Give me all you got, my good sir.” The other men chuckled at his kind words, as if it was all some big joke.

But the joke was on them.

Jaskier started to shrug, but felt the knife prick his skin. “Go…” his voice cracked from disuse. “Ahead. Take whatever you want. I’ve no coin.” He held up his empty pouch from his belt.

One of the other men grabbed his lute case and ripped it open. Sneering, he pulled the lute out and spat on the ground. “It’s just a poor bard.” He lifted the lute, the one gifted to him by Filavandrel.

Jaskier should shout, rail against what was about to happen, but all he felt was emptiness. This last part being taken from him felt like closure. The end was coming, and he welcomed it.

“Can’t cut it out there, eh? Too many bards better than you. Like that coin singer,” The man laughed in his ear. “How does it go, boys?”

The men laughed and horribly sang the line, “Toss a coin to your witcher!”

His heart clenched at the reminder, but he gave no indication to the thieves. With heavy eyes, Jaskier watched as the man tossed his lute into the fire. To the side, he saw another man dump the contents of his satchel on the ground. Paper, ink, his clothes, all tumbled out into the dirt.

“He’s got nothing.” The man said as he stomped all over his clothes, smashing open an ink bottle in the process.

“We don’t like it when our targets have nothing of value. It means it was a waste of our time. Guess we’ll just have to use you to get out some of our aggression.” The man behind him hauled Jaskier to his feet. “Come on boys, y’all need to practice swinging your fists.”

As the men chortled with glee and approached him, Jaskier just closed his eyes and thought back to better days. When the man he loved seemed to care back, even just a little.

 _And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes_  
_I fall into your arms_  
_I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around_

If only they had gone to the coast…


End file.
